


Our Little Piece Of Heaven

by PB_and_Jelly



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Afterlife, Fluff and Angst, Grief, Heaven AU, Hinata's a ghost of some kind, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 08:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4869512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PB_and_Jelly/pseuds/PB_and_Jelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hinata wasn’t found for another 30 minutes. Half-covered in new snow, his lifeless hands hung limply around a box close to his chest, as if holding onto it was the most important thing at the time of his death. The words written in frosting were smudged and the cake had crumbled to pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Little Piece Of Heaven

            It was a chilly day. As Hinata walked down the empty sidewalk, his breath created puffs of condensation. His old limbs ached from the cold, and his arm was getting a little tired from hauling the cake all the way from the shop. But, nevertheless, he had to do it. It was Kageyama’s birthday after all.

Hinata smiled giddily at the thought of singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Kageyama once again. This year was special, though. He had taken extra measures to ensure that Kageyama would enjoy today, the mark of his seven decades of being alive. He’d even written a cute message on the cake himself that was sure to make the taller one blush for hours.

Everything was ready. Today was going to be perfect. Kageyama was impatiently waiting at home a few blocks away. All Hinata had to do was finish the (rather long because of his old age) walk and surprise his awaiting husband.

He crossed the road, humming a pleasant melody and swaying his head.

He heard the engine before he saw it.

A car.

A flashy red Porsche that would be engraved in his memory forever.

A driver.

Seemingly tipsy (if the beer can held to his lips wasn’t indication enough) and a little too upset to be driving.

He didn’t make it back home that day.

Hinata wasn’t found for another 30 minutes. Half-covered in new snow, his lifeless hands hung limply around a box close to his chest, as if holding onto it was the most important thing at the time of his death. The words written in frosting were smudged and the cake had crumbled to pieces.

_‘You’re still as cute as the day I met you’_

 

 

\---

 

 

 

Hinata woke up. A crowd of strangers were surrounding him and making a giant fuss. For some reason, he was lying on the ground. Hinata groaned and rubbed his head. He froze.

He felt soft, curly hair, a major difference to the gray, thin strands he was supposed to have. He held his hand out in front of him. No sagging skin or calloused fingers. He touched his face gingerly. No wrinkles.

His eyes widened instantly and he called out to the many spectators.

“What’s happened to me? What’s going on?”

Nobody looked his way, as if they hadn’t even seen him. Hinata waved a hand over their faces, but they offered no indication that they acknowledged him.

“Call an ambulance!”

“Somebody get the police!”

“What’s going on around here?”

The background noises had finally reached Hinata’s ears and he quickly stood up (why didn’t his back ache? Why didn’t his bad knee hurt?). He looked around his surroundings. Frantic people were running around, some were on their phones calling for help, some were approaching hesitantly to take a look at the scene, and some just plainly stood there, staring at a pile on the ground.

At closer inspection, Hinata realized that it wasn’t just a lump of snow. It was a body. A frail, withered body wrapped around what looked like a cake box.

It hit him like another car. The cake, the road, the flashy red Porsche, the crash, and the split second of searing pain before…nothing. He remembered all of it.

So where was he now? He should be dead; yet, there he was, standing over his own corpse in what seemed to be his younger self. It made absolutely no sense. Before he had processed any of this impossible information, he ran. He ran like he hadn’t for years, exactly like how he’d done when he raced Kageyama in their high school and college years.

He fled, yet he didn’t know what he was fleeing from. He just wanted to see Kageyama, wanted to know if he was aware of his involvement in an accident. Suddenly, like a dream, he was there.

Right in front of their apartment door, Hinata stood, wondering how he’d ended up here when he’d been sprinting down the sidewalk about four blocks away just now. He heard nothing from within.

He made to grab the door handle but he pulled his hand away instantly. He hadn’t noticed it before, but now that he was a little calmer, he realized. He could see _through_ his hand. Not as visibly frightening as you might think, though. His pale skin was only just a little more transparent, that’s all. However, this only served as more proof that he was already dead.

He grabbed the handle and flung the door open. Kageyama, peacefully dozing on the sofa, didn’t move a single muscle. Hinata approached slowly. He could see clearly the rising and falling of Kageyama’s chest, the vase of flowers that sat on the brown coffee table (that stupid curry stain was still there), and a glass of water, half filled up (or half empty), settled next to Kageyama’s phone.

Both of them jumped a mile high as Kageyama’s loud phone went off. Kageyama rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he grabbed his phone and answered it, mumbling about how “this technology’s gonna give me a heart attack one day”. Hinata, shocked in place from the noise, stood completely still as he watched the other’s movements. Kageyama hadn’t seen him.

As Kageyama listened to the caller speak, a peaceful quiet arose. But, without warning, the mood in the room suddenly dropped to below freezing. A dark and depressing aura radiated off of Kageyama. Hinata could practically feel it and it pricked at his skin.

“What?” Kageyama’s low voice concealed none of the menace, “Is this some kind of joke?”

A silence passed, both of them so still that Hinata wasn’t sure if time had stopped or not. He heard a person replying on the phone, but he didn’t catch any of it. All of a sudden, Kageyama bolted up (a tiny wince escaping his mouth) and moved to the door, straight to where Hinata was.

Hinata waited for impact, shutting his eyes tightly. It never came. He felt a breeze, but when he opened his eyes again Kageyama was already behind him. He’d walked straight through.

Hinata wanted to grab Kageyama, wanted to scream and shout and throw a giant tantrum, but most of all, he wanted to cry. The full brunt of it finally dawned on him. He was dead. He was a hit-and-run victim on his husband’s 70th birthday. He would never sing another ‘Happy Birthday’ song again, and all he wanted to do was bawl his eyes out and curse his fate.

Nothing like that happened. He followed Kageyama obediently, all the way back to the scene of his death.

 

 

 

\---                                                                                                                      

 

 

 

A lot of tears were shed that night. Hinata was by Kageyama’s side the whole time, a futile attempt to comfort him. When Kageyama went to bed, Hinata’s side of it was painfully empty and he cried himself to sleep, mumbling his (ex-) husband’s name over and over again. Hinata lay beside him, the tears a seemingly endless flow, and drifted slowly, heartbreakingly, into a deep sleep.

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

Hinata opened his eyes to bright lights and a tall ceiling. The surface beneath him was hard and very unlike the soft bed he fell asleep on. He scrambled up instantly and looked around. It was definitely not the cozy apartment that was his and Kageyama’s house.

A gym. More specifically, the Karasuno High School gym. The floor was squeaky clean, the equipment looked like it hadn’t been used at all, and the stage looked exactly as he’d remembered it. Something on the floor, right in the middle of the gym, caught his attention.

He walked over and picked it up. Sheets of paper that displayed what seemed like a hand-written letter. He recognized the handwriting:

 

_My dear Shouyou,_

_Welcome to the ‘afterlife’. It’s a crude way to put it but it is what it is. Some people like to call it ‘heaven’ (it’s entirely your choice)._

_You might’ve noticed some things already, but I think I should mention it. Now that you’ve passed away, you’ve probably changed form. Your body is not what it was when you died, but instead the size and shape of when you had the best times of your life. These kinds of things are already pre-determined, so you can’t pick and choose._

_Another thing is that you may have noticed that you are slightly see-through. It’s really nothing to be alarmed about. It doesn’t mean you’re a ghost or some kind of spiritual being that can float around and haunt people. It simple means that you don’t have a solid body that living people can see (that sounded really bad, but it’s not!). If you look at yourself closely enough, you can see that you even glow a little (I honestly don’t know why)._

_Interacting with objects is perfectly fine, but people won’t see it move. A while after you move it, the object will go back to how it’s being viewed in the living realm. People, however, are not touchable. You’ll go straight through them and they won’t feel a single thing._

_Those are the basic things that you need to know. Now comes the more complicated side to this:_

_Walking around in the afterlife is kind of like dreaming. You will yourself to be somewhere, and you’re immediately there. It takes a little bit of getting used to. However, keep in mind that you can’t just appear anywhere you want to. You may only go to the people and places that you absolutely loved, and still love, with all of your heart._

_When you do visit these people/places, you should also know that time passes in the same way as it does if you were living. That’s only when you arrive at your destination, though._

_The ‘instant teleportation’ seems like only a second to us, but it’s in fact taking minutes, hours, days, even months, and sometimes (very rarely!) years. Don’t worry. Most of the time, it only takes a few minutes but it’s pretty hard to predict. At most, it will take a couple days. When you arrive, however, time passes just like how it’s lived in real life and you will be seeing people move at real time._

_Oh! I almost forgot! A very important detail: The most amount of time you can spend at one place is one human day. After that, you get transported immediately to the next person/place that your heart yearns to go to. Once you wait five hours (if you really want to go back) you may go back to where you left and spend another day there._

_Now, dear, I’m sure this is a lot of information and it’s kind of overwhelming. By now, you’re probably wondering why I haven’t come to see you myself. It’s because I’m waiting. I’m waiting for you to finish watching over your loved people and places. Once you’re done, you’ll come over to where I am._

_(I promise this is the last piece of information) You might wonder what I mean by that. Explanation!: Once you pass away, you enter the stage called ‘Echo’, which you are currently in. It’s basically everything that I explained in the bulk of this letter. You stay in this stage for ten years (your time). For example, the person you love has aged 20 years during their lifetime. It doesn’t matter if you were with them every step of the way, you will still get to see more if you’ve only used up five years of your afterlife when viewing their 20 years._

_It’s really quite difficult to explain (Oh, I’ve always been bad at explaining things! This is exactly why I could never help with your homework, dear) but I do hope that you understand._

_Anyways, once you use those ten years up, you move onto the next stage. It’s called ‘Paradise’. A rather extravagant name, I know. It’s where all the souls of the deceased gather together and it’s a space where you can create your own little universe to your own preferences. Other souls can step into it and create it with you (It’s really fun! I’m writing this letter on the rather pretty table that I conjured up!)_

_It’s a giant playground, essentially. You can be however old you want, do whatever you wanted to do but never got a chance to, be with all the people you thought you’d never see again, that kind of thing._

_Time moves quite differently here (I won’t bother explaining, it’s much too complicated for me to even comprehend!) and my wait for you won’t be long at all. Just make sure you enjoy these ten years._

_I’ll see you very soon._

_-Mommy_

 

Hinata’s head was spinning by the end of it. He vaguely understood what his mom was trying to say but, as she said, she was always pretty bad at explaining things.

Hinata wasn’t one to complain about his mom, though, and, moreover, he wanted to experiment. Hinata’s always been one to do rather than think. He didn’t want to mull over the complicated business of the afterlife but instead wanted to mess around now that it’s confirmed he’s dead.

The first thing he set out to do was find a mirror. He wondered if it was going to be like those ghosts or supernatural beings that were always talked about in movies, the ones that could be seen by humans but didn’t appear in the mirror when they looked into one.

He jogged pleasantly out the gym but stopped in his tracks soon after he saw the outside. The campus had changed drastically. Over the decades, the school hadn’t been knocked down and replaced (thank goodness) but it had gone through many repairs and renovations. The gym was unchanged on the inside, but the entire outside of the building was painted a different color to match the new color schemes of the school.

The ground was bare of any nature since it was winter, but in the empty quads around the school, Hinata could see that they placed trees and new picnic tables. He could only guess that they’d also planted flowers to compliment these features.

Hinata surveyed his surroundings as he walked to the clubroom building. Not surprisingly, it had also been changed. The stairs seemed unused and beautifully, yet miserably, unworn.

He opened the door to the volleyball clubroom, not even knowing that he was holding his breath before he let out a sigh of relief. Besides the (recently) replaced equipment, the room was practically the same. The same mold in the far corner that, no matter how many times anybody tried, would refuse to be fixed. The same arrangement of shelves and lockers, the same flooring and wallpaper. Seems like it was a tradition for the generations to keep it how it originally looked.

There was the same calming atmosphere and musty smell of mixed sweat and deodorant. The same feelings of joy, fear, accomplishment, anger, frustration, anxiety, suspension, motivation, and oblivion shared between every single player.

Memories flooded back and Hinata experienced one of the biggest surges of nostalgia he’d ever had. Hinata couldn’t do anything except smile.

After a few moments alone with his thoughts, Hinata snapped back to the present and continued his search for a mirror. Finding it didn’t take too long and along with it, it brought a childish disappointment.

Hinata could see himself in it. He was pretty sad about the fact that he wasn’t a scary ghost that disappeared in mirrors, but the feeling was quickly eradicated with a sense of wonder.

He looked _extremely_ young. Younger than he could ever remember being. He certainly looked a lot livelier in this youthful form. He touched his face experimentally and flexed his legs.

The bad knee he’d gotten with age no longer hurt and his skin was smooth and pale. Hinata giggled to himself. ‘ _I’m pretty cute as a teenager’._

As he reminisced, his mind constantly wandered back to memories of him and Kageyama. He blinked once, twice. His surroundings changed.

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

He stood in front of the TV, the one in his house that him and Kageyama never watched because the bright screen gave them headaches. He turned around slowly, surveying the mess that Kageyama had no doubt created in his mourning.

Bunched up in thick sweaters and furry blankets, Kageyama was tucked in warmly on the old couch. In front of him on the coffee table was some fish and a bowl of rice, both barely touched. Hinata went to the kitchen to check the calendar. It’s been three days since the accident.

Sighing inwardly, Hinata trudged back to the living room and sat down next to Kageyama. The 70-year old man seemed more tired and restless, and from the way he moved and breathed, anyone could tell that he was more than a little depressed.

Hinata really hoped that he could at least sense his presence, no matter how little. He was glad that Kageyama still had the logic that humans have to eat to stay healthy. He could see that he was making an effort to cook for himself (Hinata was always the one to cook their meals) yet he wasn’t eating any of it.

He leaned against the blanket that covered Kageyama’s entire body. This was probably as close as he could get without passing straight through, so Hinata settled for it. Kageyama made no indication that he felt him there.

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

Two months passed. Hinata had already visited Kageyama countless times, and every time he did Kageyama was a wreck. There were no signs that he was getting any better. All he ever did was lie around the house, cook food, let the food go stale, and sleep alone in a bed that was too big for him.

Hinata wanted to thwack him on the head. For Hinata, it’d only been a few days in his time (or was it a few weeks already?) and he was getting really sick of Kageyama’s depression. It wasn’t natural.

Today, though, was a special day. Kageyama was currently putting on one of his old, faded suits and struggling with the tie. A somber look was settled deeply on his face. It was, in fact, the day of Hinata’s funeral.

It was put off for a while due to certain reasons, but it was finally happening. The sky was a clear, cloudless one (Kageyama could never forgive it) and Hinata, personally, thought it was a good thing.

Hinata watched Kageyama leave their house, but didn’t follow him this time. He found it a little wrong to attend his own funeral, so he wished, blinked, and appeared in the Karasuno gym (it was his favorite place to be besides with Kageyama) During the next three hours, Hinata enjoyed watching the current volleyball team practice their receiving (Hinata imagined they’d win nationals if they kept up the pace.)

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

The small cozy house setting didn’t greet him this time. Instead, the smell of spring grass and the nip of the chilly wind that had not parted with winter was what welcomed him. He’d lost count the many times he’d been to his house, where Kageyama usually was, but this was one of the first times that he’d teleported to an outside location.

Kageyama was sitting on a blanket that had been laid carefully on the ground. He sat facing a gravestone. Hinata walked closer to inspect it.

_“Hinata Shouyou, beloved husband and friend. May you fly like the crow and reach heaven on your wings.’_

Kageyama cleared his throat, disrupting Hinata’s thoughts.

“Hinata. I don’t know if you can hear me but, if you’re here, please listen.” Kageyama was staring over the tombstone, at the exact place Hinata’s head would be if there were sitting down together. Hinata moved to go seat himself in front of Kageyama.

“If you’re not here,” Kageyama continued, “then this is going to get awkward.”

“I’m here.” Hinata called out, unable to stop himself, “I’ve always been right here.”

Both of them held one-sided conversations for the next couple of hours. By the end, they were both in tears.

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

A year had been quick. At least, it had been for Hinata. Today was the anniversary of his accident. Small clusters of bouquets were placed at the roadside, courtesy of the neighbors who remembered what happened one year ago.

Today was also a day to celebrate birth. Hinata could imagine himself buying cake again, if he’d lived that is, for Kageyama’s 71st birthday. He would’ve bought a nice present, prepared some nice food, and maybe forced Kageyama to play a stupid party game and sing ‘Happy Birthday’.

Kageyama had recovered from his grief and was almost completely fine now. He stayed in bed for today, huddled in blankets to keep the cold away. He sipped a warm cup of tea and read a book. Hinata joined him gladly.

Kageyama, over the course of the year, had regained his appetite, went out a lot more for picnics by Hinata’s grave and on walks around the vicinity. Most of the time, Hinata accompanied him to enjoy the sounds of life around them. He found it quite ironic, and that made it even better.

Tucked in bed, the two of them passed the afternoon silently. Kageyama occasionally got up to refill his cup of tea or go to the bathroom. He took a short nap in the late afternoon, just as he’d done with Hinata so many times before it was practically a routine. 

Hinata sang ‘Happy Birthday’ for him once he realized that Kageyama was neglecting his own birthday. If he were living, he definitely would’ve scolded him majorly for it.

And just like that, the anniversary of birth and death passed by like an ordinary day.

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

It’s been a year and a half. Hinata was being a little creep, like always, and watching Kageyama’s peaceful, sleeping face. A little youth was restored every time he slept, so Hinata loved to keep watch, even though he was pretty sure Kageyama would’ve kicked him if he ever found out.

Done with his creeping for the night, Hinata crawled under the thin blankets and thought about tomorrow. It was a scheduled day to go have a picnic, which was one of Hinata’s favorite thing to do with Kageyama. He drifted slowly to sleep, trying his best to contain his excitement.

When he awoke, there was an oddly tense atmosphere. He turned his head to look at the clock perched on the side-table. It read 11:29 AM. He turned his head the other way to see Kageyama’s figure still lying in bed when he should’ve woken up hours ago to prepare food for the picnic.

Hinata got out of bed and walked around to the other side. Kageyama’s face still held the same peacefulness as last night, but something was off. Something was horribly wrong.

Hinata, with shaking fingers, held out his hand to touch Kageyama’s arm. He still went right through, but this time it came with a biting cold.

His body was freezing, completely empty. The steady rise and fall of his chest was no longer apparent, and his body radiated none of the living energy he had just the night before.

_This body was dead._

Without meaning to, Hinata crumbled to the floor.

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

Hinata whistled idly, his hands clasped behind his back as he walked in circles around the gym. Today was a Sunday, so he wasn’t expecting any company. Except for one. Any second now.

He heard a low grunt from a corner of the gym, and he whipped around to see. A tall figure was getting up from the hard floor, rubbing his back and glancing around. It was, not surprisingly, Kageyama.

Hinata, standing in the middle of the gym, giggled to himself at the bewildered face of 15-year old Kageyama. Eyes widened, mouth agape, and arms hanging uselessly at his side, he could do nothing but stare.

“H-Hinata?” Kageyama walked forward slowly, not seemingly able to register the sight in front of him.

“Hi.” Hinata offered a small wave and, at the same time, beckoned Kageyama forward.

“What is this place? What are you doing here? Why do you look so young? You better start expl-“ Kageyama’s words were cut off by an exaggerated bow on Hinata’s part.

“Welcome,” Hinata straightened up and smiled sweetly, “to our little piece of heaven.”


End file.
